Home for the Holidays
by amabethchase
Summary: Etienne decides to spend some of his Christmas break at Anna's house; sarcasm ensues. Fluffy one-shot.


"I'm not sure about this."

"Anna," Etienne said seriously, "I _flew here from San Francisco _with you. I did not spend eight hours on two different planes and two hours in a stuffy Texas airport to be turned away at your doorstep."

"Well, I'm sorry to put you through so much trouble," Anna said, avoiding his eyes.

He reached over and lifted her chin up to face him, and his easy grin instantly calmed her. "I would do it again," he said, "If it meant spending more time with you." He brought his lips down to hers, and she melted, any anxiety she had about him visiting her family evaporating.

The front door squealed open, and Anna practically leaped away from Etienne at the sound of Seany's voice: "_Ew! _ Anna and her boyfriend are having sex!"

"Seany!" Anna snapped, mortified, "I don't think you know what that means!"

Her little brother shrugged. "It means kissing."

"No, it doesn't-"

"What's going on out here?" Anna's mother appeared in the doorway, behind Sean. Her face lit up when she saw her daughter and her boyfriend.

"Oh, Anna, it's so good to see you!" She crushed her in a massive bear hug. "We've missed you so much. I want to hear all about San Francisco, okay? Everything."

Anna laughed. "You got it, Mom."

She released her, and Anna stepped inside, suppressing laughter as her mother threw her arms around Etienne, practically suffocating him. "And it's so nice to finally meet you! I have heard plenty about you, of course, more than enough, but-"

"Mom," Anna said, widening her eyes imploringly at her. "Why don't I give Etienne a tour of the house?"

Seany scrunched his eyebrows together. "Your name is Etienne? Weird."

Anna punched him in the shoulder.

Etienne let out a good-natured laugh. "You can call me St. Clair, if you'd like," he said to the shaggy-haired kid, offering him the smile that Anna had fallen in love with.

Sean wrinkled his nose. "Even weirder."

He disappeared off into the house, and Mrs. Oliphant motioned for Etienne and Anna to come inside.

"I'm so sorry about his behavior," she said quickly. "Usually he's more polite . . ."

"It's quite all right," Etienne said. "He seems to have better manners than my father."

Anna snorted, and Mrs. Oliphant just forced a smile, probably unsure of what to say to that.

"I'll take your suitcase to the guest room," she said, "And Anna can show you around."

"That would be lovely," he said, and handed her his duffel bag. It had a big American flag keychain hanging off the main zipper; Anna had seen it in the airport in Texas and couldn't resist.

"I feel that you sometimes forget I _am _American," he said, and took hold of Anna's hand. His touch felt so natural to her now, and it was difficult to remember a time when things were awkward between them last year, when they were so unsure of the state of their relationship.

Now, there was no question. She was very much in love with Etienne St. Clair, and he told her often that he felt the same way.

"What's that smell?" He asked, as she started leading him into the house.

"Oh, my dad's supposed to get here tomorrow for Christmas dinner," Anna explained. "But my mom starts cooking early. Turkey, mashed potatoes, stuff like that."

"The closest thing I've ever had to a home-cooked meal are the ones you defrost then reheat in the microwave," Etienne said with a small smile. "My mum does do her best, though."

"I can't believe she let you come to spend Christmas with us," Anna said.

"Well, her boyfriend wanted to take her to Paris," Etienne reminded her. "She really does love him. I think he's a great guy. And if I didn't have somewhere else to go, she wouldn't have left."

"Well," Anna said, leaning in closer to him, "You'll always have a place here."

He smiled. "Lovely house you have."

Anna scoffed. "It's probably not as big as your garage."

"Well, true, one of our garages is bigger." She raised her eyebrow at him, and he laughed. "I'm kidding, Anna. I really do like it. It feels like, you know, home."

"That is what they're calling houses these days."

"So, what about the famous Anna Oliphant's bedroom?" He asked. "Will I be blinded by its sheer cleanliness?"

"That's the hope," Anna said.

"Goodnight, kids." Anna and Etienne both turned to see her mother waving. "I'm off to bed. Let me know if you need anything at all, all right?"

"Night, Mom." Anna blew her a kiss, and she smiled before turning and heading upstairs. Anna saw the hall light shut off, enclosing her and Etienne in complete darkness except for a nearby lamp, and she heard her door click shut for the night.

"What about Seany?" Etienne asked curiously.

"Oh, he goes to bed on his own time," Anna said. "Which means he's probably sprawled on the floor in the den in one of his blanket forts, snoring away."

Etienne smiled. In the dim lighting, being so close to him, dozens of nights spent together in his apartment in San Francisco ran through Anna's head, thousands of moments she knew she would never share with anyone but him.

"So," she said, trying to sound casual, "The bed in the guest room is awfully lumpy."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Causes horrible back pains," she said. "Excruciating. Plus, it's so lonely."

"I do dislike being lonely."

"But the most comfortable bed is upstairs," Anna said.

"Does it, by any chance, happen to be in your room?"

"Perhaps."

He feigned shock. "Anna Oliphant, are you requesting that I come to _bed _with you?"

"I'll race you," she grinned.

"You are five years old."

She shrugged. "You're, like, six."

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes shining with that amused spark he always got right before he said, "God, I love you."

But this time, he just took off running.

"Hey!" She called after him, scrambling to catch up, practically tripping over the bottom of the stairs. "No fair!"

"Totally fair," he said, pausing at the top of the stairs. "This isn't even my house. _And _it's dark."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and nearly sprinted past him, but he caught her by the waist and spun her around to face him, pulling her close enough to feel his warm breath on her neck.

"My mother's room is three feet away," she whispered. "And don't get ahead of yourself. We have at _least _six hours before Seany wakes up, barges into my room, and accuses us of having sex again."

"Lead me to your room, then," he whispered back. "I really don't know where I'm going."

Anna giggled, and led him all the way to the opposite end of the upstairs hallway, past the bathroom and Seany's bedroom, to the door plastered with a _Casablanca _movie poster.

"I should have known," said Etienne, shaking his head.

"Oh, shut up." She gently shoved the door open and flipped on the light.

Etienne surveyed the relatively cramped space for a moment before deciding, "I would expect nothing less."

Anna shut the door behind her. "What do you mean?"

"It's very you," he said with a smile. He walked over to the shelves lining the wall of her room opposite the bed, which held her favorite thing in the world: her movie collection. She hadn't been able to bring many of the DVDs with her to Paris or even California, but she had to admit, she'd missed them. Her bed was piled high with raggedy old pillows and stuffed animals, and a few boxes of birthday-gift jewelry were stacked along the walls. Her desk was the same, minus all the high school textbooks. She guessed she probably should have brought her suitcase up with her.

She shoved all the stuffed animals and pillows off the bed and collapsed onto it, exhausted from the day-and-a-half of traveling.

"Perhaps there won't be enough room for the both of us?" Etienne raised an eyebrow at her sprawled frame.

Smiling, Anna shut her eyes. "The floor is perfectly comfortable, I'm sure."

She heard his footsteps approach her, and the bed creaked under his weight. She felt the brush of his lips on hers and opened her eyes, seeing him hovering just above her with that stupidly adorable crooked-teeth smile.

"But this," she said, pulling him back down to her lips by the collar of his t-shirt, "Is even better."


End file.
